Minerva?
by Aeronnen
Summary: Albus has something very important to ask Minerva ... Or, as it turns out, several things to ask Minerva. Pointless fluff! Enjoy!


Summary: Albus has something to tell Minerva ... Actually, it turns out, several things to ask her.

Rating: K+ For kisses.

**'Minerva ...'**

Albus jiggled the little green box in his pocket nervously and swallowed as if he was going to face an angry basilisk all by himself instead of going to visit his Deputy Headmistress.

Knocking on her study door with more courage than he felt, he opened the door the moment she called 'enter'.

"Minerva ..." he said cautiously, poking his head around the door.

"Albus!" she exclaimed, grey eyes turning to face him. "What are you doing? I thought Minister Drake wanted to see you?"

"Actually, my dear," he announced, kissing her delicately on the lips, "I came here especially to ask you something."

"Oh?" she said questioningly. "I've only got to finish these exam papers and then I'll be coming home." Home, to Minerva, was certainly and fixedly Albus' rooms. "I'm tired, and I want to go bed."

"Oh," he echoed sadly. Maybe this wasn't the best time to ask his question after all. "Bad day?" he enquired tentatively.

Minerva was hunting for her quill beneath a pile of paperwork, and answered him distractedly: "You have no idea. Leslie Abbot got so excited during the exam that she Enlarged her squirrel until it was so big that it started digging a hole in my desk to find nuts."

Albus chuckled cautiously. He didn't want to upset her when she was irritable: it often led to nasty consequences on the part of the offender. "I see."

"Quite," she said, noticing his chuckles and not seeming to mind. "What is this 'something' you were going to ask me?"

"Well ..." said Albus nervously, "well, it's something very important ... and I want you to think carefully before answering."

"Oh yes?" she said, eyes shining.

Albus gripped the little box hard. "Minerva ... would you ... will you ..." He took a stimulating breath of air.

"Do you know where my purple socks are?"

Minerva blinked twice in fast succession. "Umm, they're in the chest of drawers next to our bed where they normally are. Albus. Are you **sure **you're all right? You look a bit ... pale."

His face had indeed got a sudden pale, whey-coloured complexion. "No," he said as firmly as he could manage, "no, I'm fine, thank-you, Minerva. I'll, er ... see you later."

And he walked from the room on buckling legs. Minerva watched him go with a puzzled expression.

Minerva watched her lover meander his way up the corridor. "Socks ...?" she wondered curiously.

"What on earth was that about?"

--

Albus watched the Giant Squid waving it's tentacles around in the shallow water. He'd never get his question out this way. Perhaps if he hid it in her food ...

No. Minerva would think he was too scared to ask her, and she hated cowards. He would have to think of some other way.

Hmm. This would take some thinking about.

--

Minerva dropped her heavy satchel onto a well-stuffed golden armchair and pried off her working boots before entering the small room where Albus and her kept their clothes to change into her nightdress. Why were some people so affected by the exams? She could understand a few healthy nerves, but to turn your friend orange was ridiculous!

Minerva hung her heavy teaching robes up and walked into her and Albus' bedroom.

She stopped dead in shock. Their room, which previously been rich burgundy and gold (a bit of private house-pride) complete with matching drapes and four-poster mahogany bed, was now a bright, shocking pink. Confetti fell from the ceiling and cupids were carved on the impressive headboard of the bed. Little tea-lights (shocking pink as well) were magically suspended in the air. Minerva dropped the pins that she had been unpinning from her hair to floor in disregarding shock.

"What the Hell is this?!" she screeched, all ready overwrought by the happenings of the day. Albus emerged from the bathroom, not clad in his usual orange-and-purple flannels, but in a hideous pair of fuchsia pyjamas that matched the room perfectly.

"It's, er ... Well ..."

Albus now had a very bad feeling about his plan; but his lover's threatening glare demanding explanation had to be satisfied. "I thought you – we – might both enjoy a ... a change of scenery?" Ho offered tentatively. Minerva snorted.

"So you decided to turn out bedroom into a smaller version of Madam Puddifoots?!"

"No-o," cringed Albus, "it was more of a ... an experiment!" he cried as inspiration struck him.

Minerva sank onto the bed wearily. "You're conducting some sort of weird experiment that is definitely against school rules, aren't you, Albus?" she said, but continued without waiting for an answer. "I don't even want to know. Goodnight." She swung her legs into their bed, and buried herself in the voluptuous bedding.

"Goodnight, love," he said in rather subdued voice. Minerva rolled her eyes at him in the dark. Honestly, sometimes he behave more immature than any first-year!

Minerva and Albus – trying to ignore the flickering light from the inextinguishable tea-lights that Albus had bought, (after finding that they only extinguished after twenty-four hours they had decided to put up with them) – were soon dozing off. Or rather, Minerva was. Albus was still lying awake, worrying about his 'Question'.

Then Minerva screamed loudly. "Albus!" she shrieked, "The bed's on fire!!"

One of the tea-light had dropped it's wick, which had ignited her pillow, making it spark and threaten to break into a full-blown fire. Albus leaped out of bed and ran around to Minerva's side.

"AAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOWWWWW!"

He had stepped on her discarded pins.

--

Albus sat on the grassy knoll by the lake and felt like joining the Giant Squid in it's rampaging. His attempts to ask Minerva the Question had failed miserably. But, now he came to think of it, it really was all his fault.

After all ... Purple socks?

And whoever heard of Transfiguring an entire room to propose? Minerva wouldn't have liked that, he thought now. Too over-the-top.

No. He had to take the Snorkack by the horn. He would ask her properly.

Right.

--

"Minerva!"

She turned. Albus was hurrying down the steps of the Great Hall, robes rippling in the strong wind.

"Yes?!" She shouted back.

"I've got something to ask you!" He bellowed. Coming to her side, he surprised her by dropping to one knee.

"Albus ..."

"Minerva, I've been very foolish. All week I've been trying to ask this question, the most important one I'll ever ask.

"Minerva Anne Mcgonagall, will you marry me?"

--

As Minerva snuggled deeper into Albus' strong chest, while the man himself laid his cheek on her soft hair, the happiest man in the world.

She had agreed to marry him! In his wildest dreams ...

Albus, thinking back, remembered how nervous and what a mess he had made of his first two attempts to ask her. But it had been surprisingly easy to ask her, once had taken himself in hand and got his courage and thoughts together.

In fact, mused Albus, he wondered why he had got into such a state.

It hadn't been that bad.

--

Not very good and very pointless, but I'd appreciate a review or two P:) The plot bunnies just wouldn't leave me alone!

Thanks for reading!


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